


Familiar/Unfamiliar

by SafetyHazard (ineedapilot)



Series: What We Create in the Shadows October Prompt Fills [1]
Category: What We Do in the Shadows (TV)
Genre: Character Turned Into Vampire, Getting Together, M/M, Post-S2 Finale, Prompt Fill, S2 finale, Vampire Murder, Vampire Turning, WWC2020, WWCITS, What We Create In October Challenge, What We Create in the Shadows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-01
Updated: 2020-10-01
Packaged: 2021-03-07 20:53:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26743927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ineedapilot/pseuds/SafetyHazard
Summary: Guillermo encounters familiar and unfamiliar situations leading up to and after the events at the Théâtre des Vampires.
Relationships: Guillermo de la Cruz/Nandor the Relentless
Series: What We Create in the Shadows October Prompt Fills [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1946776
Comments: 6
Kudos: 36





	Familiar/Unfamiliar

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the What We Create in the Shadows (WWCITS) October prompt list. Day 1: Familiar
> 
> I wrote something of a companion piece to this fic for the Who We Smooch in the Shadows 2021 Challenge (WWS21): [Undead Hearts](https://archiveofourown.org/works/29479488)

It's a familiar feeling, walking out of the house with luggage in tow. Leaving Nandor, Nadja, Laszlo, and Colin Robinson behind. He's doing it for a different reason, this time, out of protectiveness for his former Master and his housemates rather than frustration and resentment at promises left unfulfilled. Nevertheless, he didn't know then and doesn't know now if he'll ever see them again. Despite having lived together for over a decade, he's absolutely certain that none of them know where he's going or how to find him. He'd extracted a promise from the camera crew not to tell them where he's gone.

He'd packed his meager belongings, again, and blown out the dying candles in the entryway before walking out into the chilly dawn air. He shivers as he walks the short distance to the front gate where his Lyft is waiting, avoiding the soft spots where the sinkholes lurk, his breath misting behind him in tiny clouds.

"Guillermo? Good to see you again. Going on another business trip?" Even his driver is the same as last time.

Guillermo sighs. "Not this time. Going to...visit family."

\--

It's a familiar feeling, climbing the steps to his Amá's apartment building in the Bronx. Just like when he used to come home on weekends while he worked at Panera and tried to figure out what to do with his life. Back then, he'd insisted on his independence, moving out after high school instead of living at home to save up money while he worked.

Every Friday night, Amá would greet him at the door, worry etched on the lines of her face, giving him a bear hug and beckoning him in as though they hadn't seen each other for ages. She'd ask about his week, about his life, about work and his plans for the future, and he would deflect. "Estoy bien, no, no tengo novio, trabajo esta bien, lo estoy averiguando..."

Her greeting is the same this time, though the worry lines are deeper and the hug is tighter, longer. He dodges her initial volley of questions with practiced ease, claiming exhaustion, and in the days that follow, they settle back into the affectionate but distant routine that they'd developed over a decade ago on the weekends, before he'd gone off chasing dreams of vampirism.

Helping with chores, eating buñuelos, dealing with the small things that go wrong in regular life instead of the batshit crazy things that happened every day at the Staten Island house; it's how he lived before his life with Nandor and the others, and it's how he's prepared to live again, now. Maybe.

\--

It's a familiar feeling, walking back up to the Staten Island house at night, camera crew following close behind. The door creaks the same way it has for the last decade, and likely for centuries before that. He's so busy distracting himself from the tightness in his chest by making small talk to the camera that he doesn't notice the stench of rotting corpses or the pools of blood until he's flat on his back, seeing stars.

Being greeted by the bodies, the blood, the unexpectedly talking Nadja doll is shocking, yes, batshit crazy for sure, but all of that doesn't even make the top ten list of the weirdest things he's experienced in that house.

By now, he's used to the feeling of fearing for the vampires' lives, especially Nandor's. That seed had been planted back when the Baron burned, and it had been fed and watered with a cross pulled out of his shirt, a DNA test, a dozen or more vampires killed around the house, and eventually the growing certainty that he wouldn't be able to deny his heritage forever.

That flower is in full bloom now, and he knows intimately the sensations that hit him when he sees the Vampiric Council's sigil on the invitation: the skip in his heartbeat, the sweat on his palms, the adrenaline that takes over as he rushes out the front door.

\--

It's a familiar feeling, too, waiting in the shadows, watching and listening on tenterhooks for the right moment to make a move. He whispers that he's not sure if the Staten Island gang really doesn't know his last name, but deep down, he knows it's true, a knowledge cemented by years of disregard and neglect.

Even the feeling of stakes plunging into yielding chests, the stench of dead flesh burning under holy water, the pathetic hissing of dying vampires is familiar. He's good at killing them, too good, and he doesn't have time or mind to think about revealing his secret to his former housemates before he's done massacring the vermin who had intended to harm them and insulted over a decade of his life.

And nothing is more familiar than Nandor's indignant deflection, ungrateful and petulant, stabbing as always right where Guillermo isn't expecting.

\--

This, now, is unfamiliar. Guillermo has power now. He sees it in the way the vampires' eyes meet and shift away from his, where before they would barely deign to look in his direction. He's agreed to return to the house as an equal, a protector, now that news of the massacre at the theater has spread through the vampire community.

His relationship with Nandor, too, is in unexplored territory. Nandor cares for him, he knows it beyond a shadow of a doubt, because he'd said so at the theater before he knew Guillermo was there, listening. It's a new seed, and one that is watered with every surprisingly gentle touch of Nandor's cold hand on his shoulder and every sheepish thank-you he now mutters when Guillermo stakes an assassin sneaking up behind him.

Their first kiss surprises him. He's never kissed anyone dead before, and the cool, firm press of Nandor's lips against his is jarring despite the knowledge that a vampire is, in effect, a walking, talking, blood-sucking corpse. The fluttering in his heart and the heat in his groin aren't new sensations, but it's certainly unfamiliar when Nandor sweeps his legs out from under him with one strong arm and carries him into his crypt for privacy.

\--

It feels familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. The lack of a pulse, the hollow feeling of drawing breath when he doesn't need to anymore. The sounds and smells that his human senses could never detect, and the unholy hunger that roils inside his stomach, calling for warm human blood. They've all lived in his mind for almost his entire life, and experiencing them now feels like deja vu, like waking up from a dream of life to an eternity before him.

He stands in front of the lid of his coffin, the burnished wood shiny and new in contrast to the antique furnishings of his crypt, converted from one of the old rooms. He runs his hand across the lip, then slips his fingers underneath and lifts it easily, looking with pride at the plush velvet within.

The familiar weight of Nandor's hand lands on his hip and long black hair brushes his shoulder as Nandor leans from behind him and pecks his cold cheek. "How do you like it, Guillermo?" He asks.

Guillermo smiles, showing off his fangs. "It's perfect."

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt list here: https://twitter.com/wwcits/status/1307816076021907456
> 
> I won't be writing something for every prompt, but hopefully I'll get to do a few of them.


End file.
